


Nostalgia

by Valentia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Season/Series 08, what happens in the stockroom if Sam leaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentia/pseuds/Valentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could say a lot about Dean Winchester but for sure not that he was nostalgic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Nostalgie](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/106914) by Valentia. 



> Hey guys, I'm finally uploading one of the translations. Some other ones will follow the next days. I hope there aren't too many mistakes, but I can't promise anything. Please, if you find some, tell me and I'll correct them. :)  
> This was the fourth SPN story I have written, but the first Destiel one. Hope you enjoy. :)

You could say much about Dean Winchester but for sure not that he was nostalgic. No, nostalgia was a foreign word for Dean. It had always been. There was simply no room in his life for that, even if he had wanted it to be. A Winchester couldn't afford to live in the past. Not Dean, not Sam, not their father. Nobody. They'd always lived in the here and now, had to get over losses very fast, sometimes too fast, and left their youngest past behind in every little city they left. But it was better like that.

It was Sam who wanted to tidy out the bunker this time. Not that they had too many bits and pieces lying around - God, no! - , but between magical artifacts and ingredients for angel or demon summonings every then and now you could find something that didn't belong there. It didn't matter if it was one of the uncountable gifts their father had given them from different cities, just to assure his sons that he thought about them all the time. Sometimes it was just an empty powder pouch or a present that Dean had gotten from his one night stands.

Sam as much as Dean didn't like it if something useless was lying around. Maybe it was because it gave them a feeling of tidiness in their chaotic life, or maybe it was just a craze for order they've copied somewhere. Whatever it was, it had gained so much importance that Dean wasn't able to sleep anymore as long as he knew something was lying around somewhere it wasn't supposed to be. Usually it was Sam who kept the bunker tidy and it might have seemed like Dean didn't care about tidiness, but that for sure wasn't the case. Tidiness was very important to Dean Winchester.

And so it came that one day Sam and Dean sat down on the floor in the stockroom, rummaging through every carton they could find. It had taken them a lot of effort not to read the newspaper or turn on the laptop this morning, so that they couldn't get their eyes on a case. By now the newspaper was already burned to ashes and Dean had hid the laptop and the loading cable. _“Just to be sure, Dean, you know me”_ Sam had told Dean as he had given him his shrine, eyes closed.

Dean moved on to the next carton and put it on the floor. He just wanted to put the carton he had already sifted through back on the shelve as his eyes caught a black box, far back on the shelve right at the wall. He frowned, reaching out for it. He couldn't remember seeing this box before. It wasn't larger than the other cartons, but its lid was fixed with two hinges and it was covered with many ornaments scratched on it with a knife. Almost every symbol to stop monsters or demons the Winchesters knew.

Dean turned the box around and noticed something sliding back and forth in it. He glared at it, confused. He wasn't sure if he should open it. There could be a cursed object in it. But why had he never seen it before? Sam recognized Dean's absence and spotted the black box in his hands.

“What's that?” he asked, getting up from the floor where he'd searched another carton.

“Do you recognize it?”

Dean handed Sam the box. It wasn't heavy and could have been a huge jewelry box, but at the Winchesters a box just never was a simple box and there was definitely no jewelry in it. Not even if John Winchester had been a woman.

“I've never seen it before, Dean,” Sam said, gazing at the box as well. “You think we should open it?”

Dean shrugged.

“I don't know. What if there's something dangerous in it? A box clown or something. You sure you'd survive that?”

Dean grinned, Sam just rolled his eyes. He took a last brief look at the box before he handed it over to Dean.

“Who finds it may keep it,” he said, turning back to the carton on the floor.

“Seriously? I can do with it whatever I want?”

Dean was honestly surprised. Usually, Sam was pretty critical when it came to the opening of some boxes. Especially if it was a black box covered with supernatural symbols. Especially if that box had belonged to John Winchester.

“Yes,” Sam said, sounding as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world. “No matter what's in there, if it's something alive or dangerous at all, it can't leave the bunker. It's your box now and everything that goes wrong is on you and you have to deal with it. I'm out.”

Dean could still just stare at his brother. This was really unusual. Did he know what this was about? Had it been his intention that Dean found it? Dean shook his head to get rid of these thoughts. Even better if it was Sam's box, then there wouldn't be anything waiting for him except for an incredibly funny joke. Dean looked back at the box and slowly opened it. Once the box was opened, Dean snorted. 

“What's up? What's in there?” Sam asked, sounding way more curious than he had intended.

“Another box.”

“Then open it.”

Dean put the big black box on the shelve and pulled the little blue one out. It was very plain and about as big as his hand. Dean opened it as well, getting a little nervous. He knew that his father had had a lot of secrets, but actually Dean had suspected that he had already discovered them all. He seemed to be wrong here.

The loosen electric light on the ceiling didn't spend much light, but enough for Dean to spot two bracelets inside of the box. He took them out and held them into the light. There was nothing special about them. Two plain steel bracelets, interrupted in one little part, so that it was easier to put them on. Dean held them right in front of his eyes but couldn't find any symbols, nor initials or anything else. They simply were two bent pieces of steel. There was just _nothing_ unusual about them and this confused Dean even more than the fact that his father had owned bracelets.

“That's the big secret?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “Just some dumb bracelets? _Bracelets?!_ ”

Dean shook his head, throwing the bracelets back into the box. Suddenly a little brown spot right under the wadding on which the bracelets were embed caught his eye. He pushed it aside and grabbed an old piece of paper. It was definitely their father's hand writing. Sam had gotten up again, staring at the bracelets and the paper with Dean.

_Thank you for everything you've done for me._  
_That's not much, but it shall assure you that I will never forget you._  
_You're the best friend I've ever had._  
_J.W._

Dean snorted and aped his father.

“ _The best friend I've ever had._ Yeah, sure! It's a miracle that he even had one. Of course he was his best mate then. Probably a dick.”

Dean stuffed the paper back into the wadding, putting the bracelets onto it and throwing the box on the trash pile. Sam shook his head.

“Hey, we live his life, too, and we have friends,” Sam said, sitting back down to focus on the carton that was still on the floor.

“You mean we _had_ friends,” Dean answered, attending back to his own carton, right after he had thrown the big black box on the trash pile as well, not without taking a last look at it.

“We do have Cas. He's our friend.”

Dean didn't know how to respond to that, so he remained silence. Just as he wanted to get to the next carton, he heard a well known wing flutter, flinching immediately. Even after all these years it was still a shock when someone appeared right next to him all of a sudden. And especially Cas had the gift to appear _very close_ to him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said and his deep voice somehow seemed to echo on every wall, even if it was impossible. “And Sam,” he added after a short pause.

“Hey, Cas, what's up?” Sam asked, not ceasing from his current activity.

He wanted to finish it today and it was already late afternoon.

“You have called for me,” Cas said and it was nothing more than a simple statement.

“When?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

Dean thought that for a brief moment he'd heard something like real surprise in his words, but for sure he had just imagined that. He had never witnessed Cas putting any kind of emotion in his voice. He always talked in the same monotonous way, no matter if it was about the weather, Lucifer, his brothers and sisters in Heaven or Dean's last joke he hadn't got. When it came to Castiel, words only seemed to be useful for communication, he broke the language down into what it actually was: an order of letters that became syllables, then words and finally sentences. Pauses after a sentence were only a matter of form. Sometimes it really annoyed the Hell out of Dean, but most of the time he just lived with it.

“You have said my name, didn't you? Cas, that is my name. Well, actually Castiel, but you call me Cas. By the way, why do you do so? I know, it's a nickname, but why do people give nicknames to other people or animals? I mean, I know it's shorter, but I don't think it matters much if you say Cas instead of Castiel.”

“Cas! Or Castiel or however. Angel!”

Cas stopped talking and glanced at Dean who got up now, coming to a stop right in front of his friend. Sam watched the two of them with a chuckle.

“We didn't call you. Aren't we allowed to say your name without you thinking that something bad happened?”

Cas wanted to say something but Dean already went on.

“Anyway, what's all this about, Cas? Sometimes I pray to you for days and you're never coming and now Sam says your name once, not even meaning to call you, and you appear immediately?!”

“You've been praying to Cas for days?”

That was Sam. He grinned at his brother who tried not to blush. Dean wagged with his hand as if he tried to get rid of a fly, turning back to Cas, just so that he didn't have to see his brother's face.

“Well, that was exaggerated. Because of the drama. Sometimes I pray to Cas. When he needs to get his goddamn flying ass down here.”

Cas preferred to remain silent, even if he had to say something about Dean's choice of words. Instead he decided to help Dean get out of this embarrassing situation. He could sense that Dean didn't feel comfortable. He had developed a very sensitive sense for that throughout the years.

“My apologies for interrupting you. So you don't need me? You know, there is pure chaos in Heaven. Metatron-”

Cas noticed the black box on the trash pile. He tilted his head as he always did when he thought about something or didn't understand a reference, staring back at Dean.

“What box is that? I think I know it.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a promising look. Weren't they just usual bracelets after all?

“May I take a look?”

“Sure, do whatever you want,” Dean answered, observing Cas as he took the box and turned it around in his hands, gazing at it very precisely.

Then he dropped it again and shrugged.

“I guess I was wrong. But if you should start to liquidate from the inside during the next days, please call me.”

Sam and Dean widened their eyes in disbelieve. They waited for a moment, hoping that Cas had made a joke, but Cas just stared at the Winchesters, irritated for his part.

“What is it?” he asked. “You really should tell me, so that I can help you.”

Dean didn't answer Cas. He was way too busy with the words Cas had said before.

“What?!” he asked, clearing his throat because his voice sounded way too high. “What's in this damn box? Is it dangerous or not?”

“I don't believe it's dangerous.”

Dean sighed.

“Faith doesn't help us here. You can believe many things.”

Cas wanted to answer, but Dean cut him short. He knew exactly that it would have become one of these typical Cas answers that always started a discussion, forcing Sam to clear up the misunderstanding after a while. Why didn't Heaven send them an angel with more comprehension for the human race?

“Alright, we're gonna call you, if... we liquidate from the inside,” Dean said.

Cas nodded.

“Good. Where did you get the box, anyway?”

Sam interrupted their conversation.

“Don't you need to go back to Heaven, Cas? I thought you were in a hurry.”

“They will survive one more minute without me. The chaos can't get much worse in such a short period of time.”

Dean liked to say _“Are you sure you even know angels?”_ until it came to him that Cas was one himself. Still Dean was aware of these partly very annoying creatures and knew that they could cause much trouble in a very short period of time. It was pretty much the only thing they were capable of.

“I found it in one of the shelves. There were two bracelets from our father in it, who obviously wanted to give one to a friend. Nothing special, that's because it ended up on the trash.”

Suddenly a ringing broke the silence that had spread out in the room for a few moments. Sam searched for his phone in his pockets and pulled it out.

“Hello?”

Cas and Dean watched Sam, a little surprised. Then Sam pointed at himself and the door and disappeared within seconds. He left Cas and Dean alone who then concentrated on the box and the bracelets again.

“A nice present,” Cas said, smiling as if he remembered a nice memory, but Dean didn't want to ask and simply shrugged.

“If you say so. Doesn't matter anyway, we throw it away. It's useless.”

Cas squinted, tilting his head again.

“But Dean, it shows that your father wasn't a heartless bastard as you always say.”

Dean shook his head vigorously, shoving the box closer to the trash pile where it had fallen off from.

“You can say a lot about me, Cas, but not that I'm nostalgic.”

“I already noticed that.” Cas remained silent for a moment. “But the past can be something beautiful and have nice memories. And you should learn from the mistakes you've made then.”

“I know, but that doesn't mean that I have to keep every crap I find in here.”

Dean snorted again. Cas looked around the room, trying to remember the other parts of the bunker. He didn't remember seeing much junk. He didn't remember seeing anything at all the Winchesters couldn't use for their cases, except for Dean's porn magazines he accidentally got his hands on once. He tried to get these pictures out of his mind.

“I don't think you two keep much garbage. But does the past really mean nothing to you? Do you really want to suppress it that much?”

Cas almost sounded a little worried - _worried!_ \- , gazing at Dean with his blue eyes. He showed the same facial expression as Sam always did when they talked about the past. As if they believed that Dean would still bottle up his past. Yes, it was possible that Dean didn't keep anything from back in the days, because he hoped to forget it and its worst memories that way, but the two of them really should stop worrying about his emotional well-being. If the two had learned one thing it was that talking about emotions with Dean never ended up well. Never!

“I don't see any reason why people keep every crap they ever got or bought. It's pointless. And it's not like I'd suppress everything. I remember the important things.”

 _And the really horrible things, because I can't get them out of my mind_ , Dean thought, but he didn't say that.

“Alright, Dean. I think I'll go now. There are a lot of angels rebelling against us and I have to kill them. But before that I'll have to interrogate them.” An agonized look showed up on Cas' face. “Even though I don't like doing that at all.”

“You see!” Dean suddenly shouted and Cas seemed a little shocked because of Dean's sudden enthusiasm. “That's something I do remember!”

Cas didn't even have to tilt his head, so that Dean explained.

“In earlier days you've been really different, Cas. You would've never used the words _angels_ and _kill_ in one sentence. I mean, you're still... you. Very much. Maybe you're even more you as it's good for you. With all your flaws. Sometimes really annoying, but that doesn't matter. What I mean is that I know _exactly_ who you've been in the past and who you've become.”

During Dean's monolog Cas' eyes got smaller, but as Dean ended, his eyes widened again.

“So is it bad how I am now?”

Every other human would have sounded hurt, but not Cas. Dean didn't even get confused because of that anymore.

“No, that's not what I wanted to say. I just mean, sometimes I miss the old you...” Silence. “Wait, did I actually say this?”

Dean played shocked just to overact his growing tension. What Dean didn't know was that Cas actually sensed that. Dean wished, Sam would come back again.

“If you want me to be as I was some time ago you have to tell me how. But I can't remember changing that much after all.”

“That's how it goes. You don't notice it. But when you look back after a long time, you can see it. And you became... ruthless. Somehow. I mean, damn, you've been a baby in a trench coat! And now, now you're a murderer. But somehow you're still a baby. Basically a homicidal baby in a trench coat.”

Dean grinned because of his bizarre description, thinking that he'd never described someone better. Cas was confused, staring down at himself.

“But I'm not a baby anymore, Dean.”

Dean sighed.

“It's just a phrase when someone's naive, without having a plan or any orientation.”

“Am I like this?”

Cas was really interested in what Dean thought about him. Did he really become a murderer?

“Yeah, sometimes. In the earlier days more than now, but that's simply because you became more bad ass with your awesome angel knife that kills everything and everyone.”

“And you're missing that? That I don't have a plan or any orientation?”

Dean didn't quite know what to say. He blundered again and again, even though Cas had simply no idea that this was a really uncomfortable topic for him, making him feel awkward. Once again he asked himself why God or whoever chose _him_ out of all people to help this angel learn about humanity.

“Well, yes. No. Yes. I have no idea for God's sake!” Dean tore his hair. “You've been... It had been... Everything had been easier.”

“What do you mean?”

Damn, couldn't Cas just stop asking? Dean fought with himself if he should lay it on the line or not. If he said it out loud it would have been a confession to himself at the same time. And that although he didn't want the past to get close to him!

“By the time you came to us you've simply been this dopey angel who had no idea of anything, but you never gave up hope and you believed in the good things and that, I mean, I think it kinda helped me. To see that the bad didn't get through everything yet, you get it, Cas? You've been so innocent. And now you're no longer that angel.”

Dean reckoned to notice a little smile on Cas' face, but he couldn't really tell. Somehow it tingled inside of him and he asked himself why it was that difficult to talk with Cas about all this stuff.

“I understand, Dean. And if it helps you: I never gave up hope and I will always believe in the good things to win the never ending war. And I've never been innocent, not even by the time I met you and not before that. But I don't exactly understand why you liked me being disorganized.”

“Okay, _that's_ better right now.”

Dean tried to sound amused to ease the situation, but it didn't really work. Somehow he got touched by Castiel's words. They awoke something he never thought he even had inside of him. Somehow Cas' words made him feel lighter.

“Dean, if it makes you happy, I'll try to be disorganized again. But I don't really know how that works.”

Now Dean couldn't hold back a little chuckle.

“Cas, I guess you'll manage being a little disorganized anyway. Like right now. I mean, usually people don't talk about something like this. Well, at least the Winchesters don't.”

“And why are you talking about it with me then?”

“You started it!”

Dean tried to sound reproachful and suing, but somehow Cas' visit had taken every harshness out of his voice. 

“I don't know who started, but I don't think it's of much importance. Is there something else I can do to be like before?”

Dean silently prayed that Sam would come back soon. He talked himself into trouble with this angel, for whom this conversation was just like any other.

“You know, Cas, maybe you could try something new.”

Now Castiel was really confused.

“What do you want, Dean? Do you want me to go back to who I've been years ago or do you want me to be different at all? Tell me, Dean.”

Dean sighed, just overcharged.

“Oh, Cas, dude, I want...”

 _... you_ , Dean almost said, faltering. That definitely sounded wrong. But Cas' question was eligible. What did Dean want? He really didn't want the dopey Cas, because he'd just cause trouble these days. He didn't want a homicidal Cas as well, for he'd just kill everyone getting in his way without a second thought. He liked the Castiel standing in front of him right now. So how the Hell did he manage the conversation to go like _that_?

“Stay who you are, Cas. I don't want you to change. The old Cas was great, but he belongs to the past, and honestly, you know by yourself that your lack of plan would just kill us all these days. It's a miracle we've all survived back then.”

Cas tilted his head again.

“Was that an insult?”

How on earth did Cas manage to utter this questions that monotonous?

“No, it wasn't. That was sarcasm.”

“Oh, alright then.”

Dean could see that once again Cas didn't understand. Still it didn't surprise Dean, for sarcasm and its meaning were things the angel had never understood and probably never would. That was one reason Dean sometimes laughed about his own comments, while Cas was just standing next to him, simply waiting for the next thing to happen.

“But would it be very bad, if something changed _between_ us?”

That question almost threw Dean off course. Just almost. Cas noticed it, but didn't say anything.

“And what? What should change?”

“I don't know. What _can_ possibly change?”

Dean sighed and tore his hair again.

“Why do we even talk about this? It's absolutely ridiculous!” _Sammy_ , Dean thought, _when are you finally coming back?_ “And besides, we've been through so much together. We fought, you were God, I died, Sam died, you died, you betrayed us all, we were in purgatory together, everything. And still we're standing here, being friends. So what is there that had never happened between us before?”

“We've never kissed.”

Dean thought his heart would stop. But it went on beating, much faster than it should, and he simply stared at Cas, his eyes widened. He didn't really say this, did he?

“Is everything alright, Dean? Your heart is beating fast.”

Dean prayed not to blush. Cas had some really crazy fantasies.

“I'm fine,” Dean said emphatically, partly to convince himself.

“Alright. So. Would it change something?”

Cas stepped closer to Dean, simply because of his curiosity if that alone already changed something. He knew that Dean didn't like proximity very much, but if they already talked about things Sam and Dean usually didn't talk about, then he could try something else that was quite unusual as well, for everything seemed to be different this day. It appeared logical to Cas. Meanwhile, Dean couldn't think about something like that at all.

“No, Cas, that's out of the question.”

“If it didn't change anything, it would not constitute a problem, but you refuse, so it would change something. Did I get this right?”

Dean thought about it. Would it change something? If he kissed Cas? For a short moment he thought about trying it to find an answer to his question, but then he shook his head, dispelling the thought. No, he definitely would not kiss the angel. But even though he didn't want to admit it he knew that something would change. It would simply change everything, it would turn Dean's world upside down! He was sure it would be like that and it scared him.

“Dean?”

“What?”

“Would it change something?”

Dean was really about to say _“Try it”_ , but he held himself back. Even though something inside of him screamed to just say it.

“Why aren't you answering but staring at me like this? Is there anything about my face?”

Dean suddenly realized that he examined Cas from top to bottom, finally stopping at his eyes and lips, and Dean didn't understand. That conversation wasn't what he thought it would be like. That goddamn stupid black box! When Cas was gone, he would destroy it with his own hands and burn it afterwards!

“No, Cas, your face is...” Every word that came to Dean's mind was impossible to say out loud. “... without scratches or dirt. Everything's alright. But don't you have to go back to Heaven?”

“I can't leave now, Dean. I can't leave you here without an answer to my question.”

Oh yes, Cas' stubbornness was another thing that hadn't changed over the years. And his commitment for the things he wanted. Dean didn't know what to say. Right now it was _him_ who was absolutely without a plan and he didn't know how to shuffle out of this situation. Cas just wouldn't leave.

“I am going to try it now, Dean.”

Cas took one step towards him and now they were so close that Dean's shirt touched Cas' trench coat. He felt Cas' breath very softly on his face and _damn_ , that wasn't helpful! They stayed like this for a while, Dean telling his arms to push Cas far away from him, but his muscles didn't obey at all. Then Cas' face got closer and closer and Dean wanted to be far away or at least turn his head, but it simply didn't work. There was no black hole below him, swallowing him, even though he really wished there was. There was only him and Cas and the fact that they were going to kiss any moment.

Dean's last attempt to force his body to do just anything to stop Cas failed. And then there was hot breath and blue eyes closing reflexively and especially Cas' warm, soft lips on his own. And Dean simply stood there, letting it happen, and his thoughts went crazy and seemed wiped out at the same time. But as fast as Cas' lips had touched his, as fast their kiss was over. Dean stared at Cas, his glance darting between his eyes and lips which had laid on his own just seconds ago. 

And in Dean's head were so many thoughts. That it should be disgusting, that it was just wrong and that it must have been a dream - to be honest a pretty weird dream - and that he definitely shouldn't want more, but everything that really found his way into Dean's mind was Castiel. Castiel, still standing there in front of him, head slightly tilted, his hands nervously smoothing down his trench coat, lips pressed together - damn, these lips! - , with that innocent puppy look on his face that just drove Dean incredibly mad!

“And?” Cas' voice barely reached Dean as if he was packed in cotton. “Does it change anything?”

“You... We... Did you just... kiss me? _Kiss me?!_ ”

“I did, Dean. You didn't fight it and you didn't say anything once I've been that close to you. So I kissed you. I was curious.”

Dean didn't answer. He just didn't know what to say. It felt surreal, as if he was trapped in a movie. Was Gabriel still alive and had something to do with it? Dean would kill him, if this damn trickster had his fingers in the pie!

“Dean, are you alright?”

“Gee, Cas, stop asking me, if I'm okay!”

Dean was happy that he had found his voice back.

“My apologies.” Silence again. “But it did change something, right?”

“Of course it did! I could have told you that right from the beginning!”

“So why didn't you?”

“Because I couldn't.”

“I don't understa-”

“CAS!”

Castiel remained silent at that. Dean ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes restlessly wandering around the room, focusing on anything but Cas. He was so confused. The kiss... Dean had never thought that something like this would happen. Never. But that shocked him a lot less than the fact that it hadn't been so bad after all. Unfamiliar, but not bad.

“This change...” Cas didn't know if he was allowed to speak already, but he tried anyway. “Is it a bad change that will happen?”

“I don't know. Kiss me again and we'll see.”

Dean didn't know what he was saying, Cas didn't know what he was doing. It was a fact that they kissed again. This time Dean closed his eyes as well, fighting back against his conscience that told him that he wasn't allowed to enjoy it. He sensed Castiel's warm body and his soft lips moving slowly against his own. Dean laid one hand on Castiel's neck, soon feeling two arms wrapped around him. Then he abandoned all doubts, deepening the kiss a little. But neither Dean nor Castiel knew how far they were allowed to go - _wanted_ to go - and so they parted after a while. Dean's heart still beat very fast and there was a little grin on his face now.

“And? Is something going to change?” Castiel wanted to know and Dean asked himself how Cas was still able to think that rationally after such a kiss.

“Well, I hope so.”

A small smile appeared on Castiel's face. They were still close enough for their clothes to touch. Castiel's eyes sparkled and Dean asked himself why he had never noticed that before.

“And is it a good or bad change?” Castiel asked eventually, his smile getting a little larger.

“What do you say?” Dean asked, giving him a smirk.

“I believe it will be a good change.”

“Stop believing, man. Just say it!”

“It's going to be a good change.”

“See, it works.”

And Dean kissed Castiel once more, this time fully aware of it, and it didn't bother him at all. But then Castiel pulled away and distanced himself from Dean and this time it was Dean who tilted his head, for he didn't understand the other one's reaction.

“I really need to leave now, Dean. I've been here far too long. Not that I didn't enjoy it.”

Dean had to laugh.

“Yeah, same here.”

“But Heaven is waiting for me.”

“Sure, man.”

Dean would have liked his voice to sound as unemotional as Cas', but it didn't work out, due to the fact that he still was human, and therefore he was sure that Cas noticed the disappointment in his voice.

“But Dean, when I come back next time, I hope you haven't suppressed all this, even if it's going to be the past then. Maybe in this case it would be good to be a little nostalgic.”

And with that he disappeared, leaving Dean alone in the stockroom. And Dean had to grin, knowing that Cas would always just be Cas and that he loved him for that. And he silently promised Cas that he'd never forget their kisses and that, if it went his way, there could be a lot more. At the time Sam came back, Dean already sat back down on the floor, going through his carton.

“Where have you been that damn long?” Dean asked and even though he didn't take that much offense at Sam anymore you could quite clearly hear the reproach in his voice.

“Why? Don't you like being alone with Cas?” Sam asked, grinning and sitting back down on the floor.

 _Now, I do_ , Dean thought. But he didn't know that Sam had already finished phoning a while ago and had then just watched the two of them through the door crack, because he didn't want to interrupt them. But Sam definitely wouldn't tell Dean a word of that.


End file.
